On this particular outing we weren’t expecting to find much worthy of photography as this cemetery seems to have a rule about only using flat headstones and nothing else making it look more or less like a mowed field.
However there was a lichen covered bridge that made for a delightful photographer’s distraction as well as some sort of witchy resource? Something about water that goes under a cemetery… I’m not a witch so I just blinked at this information.
Another even better distraction was across the parking lot where a church hid all the interesting headstones! The churchyard was small but unique. On this day it was being set up for what I’m guessing was a wedding. An overworked groundskeeper jokingly asked if I was in need of a few buckets of grass. Not today!
We resumed checking out the stones. The first one I saw that stood out was a full bronze woman lying down with a small horse at her feet. Nearby were slate stones with family crests, dragons, and castles. It was very weird! Like we just stumbled into a European cemetery. And then there wad a creepy snarled tree that also distracted me for a few minutes before we made our way back to the car.
Why not follow up a ghost hunt at the Lizzie Broden Inn with a stroll through the cemetery she was buried in a few days later? That’s absolutely what we, two lovably morbid history buffs, did today.
I had Oak Grove Cemetery on my big list of cemeteries to check out but I had long forgotten why until I was reminded this morning. Ooooh yeeeah, it’s where the Bordens are buried!
I was expecting another sprawling garden cemetery oozing personality in the form of varied monuments and when I drove up to the gate of this place I really felt this what it must be. Big iron castle-looking gates, an actual parking lot beyond with several cars, and an information center inviting you to check out their cemetery tour QR code. But that wasn’t necessary because there were giant white arrows on the pavement leading to Lizzie’s grave. This place certainly knew who to cater to! This is the first time in all my cemetery jaunts that I have seen a grave so well marked for tourists. And it was only a very short walk which was great because it was cold as a witch’s tit today.
Curiously Lizzie is buried in the same plot as the father and step mother she likely ax murdered. She was found innocent at the time and lived a long life afterwards but there’s proof here she never quite got away from the stigma of the crime in the form of her name – changed from Elizabeth to Lizbeth. I don’t think dropping the E helped much to be honest. She’d eventually move from the family home to her own mansion across town where instead of socializing with an entire town that was giving her the cold shoulder she prefered instead to host theater actrices from afar, more than a few of which she likely courted. In those days she would have been known as a spinster, today we probably would say something more along the lines of lesbian.
Lizzie Borden to me stands as a bit of a tragic figure. Forever memorialized by a children’s jump roping rhyme forever naming her as a killer and she probably was but I think if she were tried today she’d be seen in a little more sympathetic light. There’s quite a few historians who give her father more than a little side eye for potentially being not just a miser and all around horrible person but also one who may have been grooming his own daughters. I saw the crime scene photos – there is nothing left of the Borden’s faces, to me that suggest some serious pent up rage, built up from decades of abuse and held back only by the strings of a corset. Lizzie may still see her time as we grow as a society to have a better understanding of criminal psychology. We could recast her as a folk hero of the Me Too Movement for taking charge of her own destiny in a time when that was near impossible for a woman.
But back to the cemetery, would I suggest it to my readers here? Maybe, if you are into the Lizzie Borden story. Otherwise probably not. Although the cemetery was sprawling there were remarkably few monuments that looked unique enough to get my attention – less than a handful of statues, a couple masoliums, a single Celtic cross. I will note however there was a rather large murder of crows watching us from creepy bare trees the whole time which seemed fitting.
I’m not going to lie – life circumstances right now have sapped me of any mental energies I may be taking to pick locations as of late, so this duty has been left to my usual travel companion and this location turned out to be a real gem!
Right in the gate there was this super sad statue in front of a geese filled duck pond, er geese pond? A fountain and fall foliage brought the whole scene together like some sort of morbid post card from beyond. And this place was huge! We hadn’t gone to find anyone in specific but we did hear this was a garden cemetery with a lot of gorgeous monuments and it did not disappoint!
Near the beginning we immediately came across a bizarre stone reading, “The Man Fortune, died 1798, buried September 13, 2013. Child of God, free at last.” The grammar was particularly confusing. Was this the Man Fortune as in a fortune of the Man family or a man named Fortune?? And what was up with the dates?! It was clearly a new stone.
As it turns out Fortune was this man’s name. He was a slave, born in Africa, who served under a local doctor who decided to take advantage of his death by using his corpse as a cadaver to dissect and teach other medical students since cadavers at the time were very hard to come by, there’s only so many criminals one can hang on a given year. We can be assured this was not agreed upon by Fortune himself prior to his death and insult was added to injury as his cadaver was rendered into a skeleton that then taught anatomy students and then took up residence in a local museum until the 1940’s under the name Larry. Eventually the origins of “Larry” was discovered almost 200 years later and he was taken down from display. It wasn’t until 2013 however that someone decided to give him a proper burial in the churchyard he was baptized in a year before his death. It was apparently a big news story that got national attention although now I didn’t see a single penny on his grave.
Beyond this there were a bunch of statues of mourning women scattered throughout the cemetery, an elk on a hill overlooking everything, and a few unique monuments as well. As expected in a cemetery of this sort of wealth we also came across a number of stone masons. Everything was just electrified by the blushing trees in the background, one was so golden we took a ton of shots of it, none of which showed just how vibrant yellow it really was. We spent a few hours wandering this place. It’s hilly and with every hill there’s a new view, none of them disappointing! This place was perfect for the would-be photographer looking for an afternoon out.
Although it does not have terribly many famous names here it was still worth a good walk through and the two hours it took to get there. We had an awesome time and I would highly recommend this place!
*Credit given to my BFF for taking the cover photo. His photographic skills often surpass my own and DAMN was that a brilliant photo!
After taking a walk down the old Jailhouse Trail we came back out to the parking lot and noticed there was a little cemetery just across the way. It looked very small but hey, we’re here, why not?
The cemetery was attached to a lovely unitarian church and at first we thought it was only a few stones however we soon realized that it wound around the church and very quickly became the TARDIS of cemeteries going very far back and even across the road! I guess Barnstable must have had quite a booming population at one point! Having done no research at all I do not know if there is anyone noteworthy buried here, though I would kind of doubt it. It did however have stones going all the way back to old slate and sandstone with the usual weird carvings I adore so much. We got quite a hike out of it! And a spooky photo of myself and one of my companions silhouetted in a way that make us look like ghosts! How cool is that? Definitely a fin little detour.
It was another day and another cemetery, this time in the distant land of Stamford Connecticut which was quite the misadventure to get to as for no reason whatsoever the traffic was BONKERS and I ended up in the car something like 40 minutes more than I anticipated due to traffic jams, none of which had any clear cause, especially on a sun shiny Tuesday! But I digress.
At first glance this cemetery did not look worth the trip. It was smaller than the garden cemetery I sort of expected and the monuments were mostly modern and boring. However, things heated up real fast. Upon driving in I came across the biggest hawk I have ever seen just sitting on the ground, looking up at my car with huge saucer eyes as I’d sneaked up on it. Initially I thought something was wrong with it but as it turns out it was just a little strung out after having butchered a pretty fat squirrel. It flew off with its bloody treasure as I found a place to park.
This cemetery was old enough that it did not have any designated places to park and I more or less went to the back and found myself a tree to let the car snuggle under. Luckily no one else was visiting so I wasn’t blocking anyone. We’d come here today because my companion found out that comedian Gilda Radner was buried here. He’d had fond memories of her comedy growing up. I, on the other hand, knew her more or less through a documentary I’d recently watched on the dark side of comedy (which in her case was not…? I mean unless you consider cancer dark but I mean all the other people mentioned were into hardcore drugs, gambling, and whores, so I failed to see the comparison.) ANYWAY, we started our little amble and began to explore.
This cemetery must be in a rich area because WOW was it in a gorgeous, landscaped area, across the street from something called Windemere that looked like if a poor walked up there they might be shot by private police. And the addition of a hawk that was eating only the fattest of squirrels sort of proved my theory. Even the animals here are posh enough for wild obesity. I got immediately distracted taking photos of pretty trees including a cherry tree in full bloom. But as I got too close to a tree near the center something screamed at me and I looked up to see the hawk, it’s half eaten lunch dangling from his talons. He was none too happy to see me again and angrily flew away to the back of the cemetery where he continued bitching until the crows found him and presumably beat the crap out of him and robbed him of his lunch. In fact this cemetery was somehow both amazingly peaceful for people living and dead, and a sight of bloody bird turf warfare. Two cardinals even got into this and divebombed the ground as they were engaging in their midair boxing match – red feathers were flying everywhere like daytime fireworks. Birds. You always think they’re so sweet and innocent until you realize they’re probably all murderers.
These distractions were entertaining but not really cemetery related. I was however happy to find out that the stones weren’t as bland as they appeared upon driving in. Some had quite some charm! Whether it was the most perfect last name ever: Goodenough, or the weird cement stones you used to be able to buy out of a Sears catalogue, or a memorial to what appeared to be a demonic gaggle of children, it was all here. There was even one which read, “We took the road less travelled by and that made all the difference” with an engraving of Valley of the Gods above it. Just the sentiment and graphic on that was so perfect. It was like I was meant to find it. What a beautiful monument!
I was also surprised to see a number of different ethnicities represented here. Some of the stones had Asian characters, some what I think was Farsi, still others were maybe Greek or possibly Russian characters? And there was a very decent smattering of markers with rocks and stones left behind on them denoting Jewish burials (or mourners) as well. I like that. A real melting pot. Maybe if we can’t get along in life we can in death.
We still hadn’t found Gilda Radner though. Turns out this is because her stone was flush with the ground, real humble, although clearly still well visited as she had by far the most flowers and tokens on hers. She wasn’t far from the cherry tree and had her own bench. I sat on it a bit. It was 80 degrees and I struggle with the heat something fierce. Still, it was a nice little break and I felt very relaxed here. I lamented it was sad this one died so young, at the prime of her career, to ovarian cancer.
When we moved on I decided we should go look for Benny Goodman too as he was also buried somewhere in this cemetery. He was near the back, another stone flush to the ground, much harder to find as the only token on it was a single rock. Sad. But I understand jazz musicians, even the most notable ones, weren’t exactly treated well by our society back in the day. Though I have come across several in my wanderings they’re always like this – simple. Not a single one dared to be as outrageous and noticeable as the music of their owners. Thinking back on it I probably should have left a penny.
And that was it, we ambled back to the car and I went back to fighting traffic for three and a half hours. Would I recommend this cemetery? If you happen to really love Gilda Radner or Benny Goodman it’s worth it, otherwise I think I’d mostly recommend it to people who already happen to be in the area. Although it was nice it wasn’t big enough to fill a whole afternoon and be worth a very long drive for most people. But that’s OK, it was still gorgeous and perfect for myself and my companion.
We had initially planned to go to Stockbridge to find Norman Rockwell’s grave – beyond that we were playing it fast and loose. After the 3 hour drive I was ready to burst and was actively looking for a bathroom. Imagine my relief to see a sign reading, “Restrooms out back” as soon as I got into town!! It was the city hall and I was beelining to their back parking lot. After taking care of business I came back out and found this huge display of pamphlets on places to go. This would provide us with inspiration for our next trip when all the touristy things are actually open. SO MANY OPTIONS! Just because I had to piss like a racehorse, we got the best intel ever. It was fate.
But after that we did actually go just up the street a little bit and parked at the church across the cemetery as the cemetery didn’t seem to have any parking (even though you could drive into it.) I was uncomfortable parking there as the lanes were narrow and there was nowhere to really pull off. The church did not seem to mind we were there so that’s what we did. And we checked out the Children’s Tower as we were right there anyway. Beautiful!
In fact this whole area was so beautiful we were getting badly distracted the whole day. But we were here on a mission so off we went! The first thing we found in the cemetery was this weird circular burial plot. In the middle was a modest pillar monument but all around in, as if in a summoning circle, were all the other stones just looking at it. I couldn’t get a good picture of it but it felt odd… usually stones are in rows not in a circle!
Beyond this we started the self-guided tour and started to acquaint ourselves with a whole assortment of local personalities beyond just that of Normal Rockwell. Normal Rockwell was buried at the back in a very quiet plot surrounded by hedges. On his stone people had left coins and trinkets, a can of paint, and a ten dollar bill! Whhhhy give the dead a ten dollar bill?! Guess this area really is rich if instead of pennies they are leaving a tenner!
Behind Norman Rockwell’s grave is the prettiest damn sheep farm on a hill patrolled by livestock guardian dogs! A jogger passing by told us we could stroll up the lane and check it out as across from that was a botanical garden. The garden was closed and we got yelled at for trying to see what it was. Sorry? The farm we just enjoyed the sheep and annoyed the dogs with our existence. There was also a ton of ground bees. So many that passing cars were making pancakes of dozens of them at a time. Neither one of my companions like bees so to get them to walk through these patches was a challenge but we did it! Exposure therapy for a win!
After this detour we went back to the cemetery to see who else was buried there. It’s a fairly small cemetery landwise and honestly most of the monuments are unremarkable but the stories behind them started to be intriguing. Here lied the brother-in-law of the guy who shot Alexander Hamilton in a dual – Timothy Edwards. I know, that one was a stretch but they got better.
There was also Agrippa Hull who we had to search the hardest for. He was a free black man who enlisted in the army and served until 1783. When he came back home he purchased a small farm and the freedom of his formerly enslaved wife. Eventually he owned the most land of any black man in the town and more than many of the whites living there as well. Always nice to see a black man succeed in those days particularly! We found his monument in part by looking for a military flag which has to be placed on all veteran’s graves.
At the center of the weird circle (or Sedwick Pie) was Theodore Sedgwick: an attorney who served in the Continental Congress and in both the U.S House and U.S. Senate as well as being House Speaker.
As the only person of color surrounding the Sedwick Pie there was Elizabeth Freeman who with the help of Thomas Sedwick won her freedom in a trial that would later be the precedent needed to ensure Massachusetts banned slavery altogether.
Catharine Maria Sedgwick on the other hand was one of the first female novelists in the colonies who wrote of religious tolerance and giving equality to the indigenous peoples of the area. Her books include A New England Tale and Hope Leslie.
Cyrus West Field was a local businessman who promoted and helped create the transatlantic telegraph cable which allowed for news from England to reach the United States in mere hours. Â
Stephen Dudley Field was the proud inventor of the electric trolley car, the electric elevator, the ticker tape machine, and a dizzying amount of other things.
Racheal Field was the author of twenty-one plays, fifteen children’s books, six adult novels, and several books of poetry that included one about the scandalous French murder her great aunt was involved in.
Charles McBurney was a doctor who created McBurney’s Point, a guide to diagnosing appendicitis, as well as McBurney’s Incision, the least damaging way to pop out said enraged organ.
Austen Fox Riggs was a psychiatrist who was also an author, the first Boy Scout leader, a hobbyist clog dancer, and hopeful drum player among other hobbies, which I can only assume meant he had intense ADHD which he somehow made work for him. Good for him!
Gertrude Robinson Smith was a wealthy New York socialite and patron of the arts who brought the Boston Symphony Orchestra to town on several occasions and in 1937 when the concert was completely flooded by a terrifyingly strong rainstorm she somehow managed to latch onto that opportunity to raise $30,000 in one evening to build a permanent pavilion. Thinking on her feet! Go Gertrude!
Joseph Franz seemed to be another one of those people with his hands in everything – helping to build one of the country’s first hydroelectric plants, figuring out how to transmit electricity through buried ground wires, and even designing the Ted Shawn Theater.
Frederick L. Leuchs – has a very memorable stone with a stoned glass window embedded into it and there’s good reason for that as he was the town’s stained glass window artist. His work can still be seen in the Library of Congress!
Nathan G. Horwitt was the designer of the “dot” watch, an innovative modern design that contained no numbers or lines, just a dot at the top. As someone with dyscalculia I hate it. Couldn’t read it if you paid me. Still, the Museum of Modern Art in NYC seemed impressed and that’s where it is now.
Richard R. Bowker – founded the American Library Association and Publisher’s Weekly.
Nina Duryea – was remembered best for her immense contributions to the charitable relief of French World War I survivors and refugees, serving over 70,000 with food, clothing and medicine.
Reinhold Niebuhr – said by some to be the guy who penned the Serenity Prayer (better known as the AA prayer to some!)
Frederick Wurtzbach’s innovations with wood pulp made paper products such as books cheaper to produce and more accessible.
And that was our trip. What a sweet, picturesque cemetery in a quaint New England town! Well worth a looksie!
The Granary Burying Ground was the whole reason we came to Boston on this particular day because it is one of the cemeteries that started my fascination with graveyards. A great deal of children in New England end up here as it is part of the Freedom Trail. I was not one of them… so how I ended up here when I was a wee one, I don’t know. I think we just found it walking after a trip to the aquarium. In any event it is goooorgeous and it is 100% where I first started paying attention to the individual artists making the stones because I was blown away by the works of Capt. John Homer – the one responsible for the sideways facing Skull and Bones that I have recognized not just in Boston but also Portsmouth NH where he eventually moved and apparently there’s a bunch on Cape Cod too. He lived a long life and was prolific. I fell in love with this Puritan style right here in this cemetery.
Although most people do not come here for the art – even though it is AMAZING and when the sun is positioned just right this place is a photographer’s dream! No, most people come here because it is FULL of famous people. All of the victims of the Boston Massacre are buried here as well as a twelve-year-old boy who was said to be the first martyr of the Revolution two weeks before the Boston Massacre. His name was Christopher Snider and he was in an angry mob storming outside the home of local Loyalist Ebenezer Richardson. Richardson had gotten the ire of the crowd after he attempted to defend another Loyalist – a merchant by the name of Theophilus Lillie who the angry mobs harassed by placing a pro-British effigy in front of his store to let everyone know no one should be buying anything from him. Richardson was caught trying to get rid of the effigy and the mob chased him all the way home. After surrounding his house, they continued the harassment until he shot several rounds at random out of his window injuring several and killing one – twelve-year-old Christopher Snider. He was tried and found guilty of the murder of Snider and spent two years in prison before being pardoned. This has to be the most Boston story I have ever heard in my life!
Also within the grounds you can find the final resting spot of many governors, senators, congressmen, founding fathers, signers of the Declaration of Independence, Samuel Adams, Paul Revere, and Elizabeth Goose who some believe was the origin for the Mother Goose nursery rhymes. WHEW! That was a lot! And in such a small area with lots of wonderful slate carvings to add the cherry on top of it all. This cemetery has a lot of bang for its buck. Definitely worth visiting if you are in Boston!
It is November so I guess it was time for another colonial cemetery. This time I was intrigued by a photo of a single random stone someone posted on FaceBook and with as little planning as usual off we went!
I did not expect to find what we did – a small but well packed cemetery with the strangest and most beautiful colonial era stones surrounded by the city itself. Adding to their uniqueness most were sandstone, likely imported from New York (or I guess New Amsterdam as it was called back in the day) rather than the Boston and Rhode Island slate that filled most of the rest of New England. It was… intriguing.
My travel companion grabbed a pamphlet at the entrance and went about in an organized manner trying to find each historical figure. Normally I follow along and listen to him read aloud but today… the ADHD gremlin bit me HARD and I was let loose into that cemetery with all the enthusiasm and lack of focus as a rabid Jack Russel terrier in a pit full of meth addled squirrels. I zipped from stone to stone, squealing in excitement, looking at the strange artwork on each just soaking it all in.
I did an exceptionally poor job of listening to my historical lecture and honestly all I remember by heart is that this was the final resting place of 15 (16?) black mayors of Hartford (who would have been mayors of their own segregated part of the city which sadly had little to do with the rest of the white population) and the first Irish immigrant. What follows is my research I have done after getting home…
Although today the cemetery is quite small it used to be far more expansive with perhaps up to 6,000 people buried here. Up to 90% of those would have not had the financial means to erect a stone and were thus interred in unmarked graves. Since the real estate it is situated on became valuable much of it was eventually built on top of. People buried here include many important local officials, even some who were involved with the hanging of witches back in the day. At least five, not 15, my bad, black mayors were buried here. A new marker was created to honor the black inhabitants of this cemetery and as such it’s on the African-American Heritage Tour. As for the first Irish immigrant he was actually the first Irish immigrant to Hartford not the US in general so I’m much less interested, but his name was Phenias Wilson (1628-1692) if you want to find him. His stone is one of the first to have a skull on it!
My three favorite graves were purely based on needless drama which colonial New England was FULL of. The first was an unfortunate man who was struck by lightning and instantly killed while he was standing in his kitchen. His grave marker reads “Here lies interd the remains of Capt Isreal Seymour who was kill’d by lightning Augst. 14th 1784, in the 49th year of his age. With awful rev’rence GOD adore Whose holy hand with sov’reign pow’r Did in an instant stop his breath And closed his eyes in sleep of death.” The little poem on that is good enough for me but the fact local ministers used his death to fear monger people to god was the cherry on top of the cake. Best be kissing up to god or else he might fry your sinning ass too!
The second stone could have been ripped out of a colonial era soap opera. It was that of Richard Edwards and his second wife Mary. Edward was 20 during his first marriage and his new bride was 22 year old Elizabeth Tuttle. In two decades she gave him six children but the first Edwards always claimed was a bastard as he was conceived before the wedding. In 1689 after the honeymoon phase was long dead Edward, who was a man of means being an attorney himself, tried to file for a divorce saying his wife was insane and adulterous. He may have been projecting just a little because after this petition failed he once again tried to get a divorce in 1691 this time claiming his wife was threatening to cut his throat while he slept. He claimed she was genetically predestined to be a murderess because her brother had once murdered their sister. This time the courts granted his request and the freshly divorced Elizabeth disappeared into the mists of history while her ex almost immediately married 27-year-old Mary Talcott who the town believed he was already playing hide the sausage with. She bore him six more children so he could have an even dozen (or 11 if the first one really was a bastard. Hard to say.) Apparently the two were able to regain composure in the church and eventually have a grandson who’d become one of the most prominent religious leaders in the colonial era.
But my favoritest stone was the triple monument of the Beauchamp sisters honoring Susannah McLean (1711-1741) Margaret Chevenard (1708-1783) and Maryane Keith (1696-1784.) The pamphlet says thusly about this stone: “In an unusual departure from custom these three married women were memorialized first as sisters, next as daughters, and last as wives, suggesting they shared a powerful emotional bond.” Yes, I am sure that’s what this means, and not three women’s last fuck you to patriarchy. Beauchamp sisters, I got your message loud and clear. I hope you’re still floating around somewhere kicking butt.
And so that was my trip to the cemetery! You should totally go see this one if you can. So much charm. So much drama. So much bizarre gravestone art. What’s not to love?
Today’s little adventure was more of a misadventure of me first getting lost finding the parking and then getting even more lost once I was on the trails. As such I will try to write this in a way that you won’t make the same mistakes!
Initially I found out about the Cemetery Loop Trail after randomly driving by parking at the Northern Watershed Southern Section which has a nice little map of all kinds of trails in the area. Neat. From this map I could figure out that parking for the Cemetery Loop Trail was actually on Scott Road so I went off to find Scott Road and I drove the whole thing, finding the N13 trail marker before finding the road was a dead end and any promises or parking were highly exaggerated. I could have parked at the main entrance (N60) and made my way on several trails to get to the Cemetery Loop Trail but I decided to park instead at the N10 Main Path entrance. It says not to park there but there’s a little bridge a few feet down the road that has a turnoff, so I parked there.
This actually worked out well. I found the N10 and then the N11 marker so quickly and easily I thought this was going to be a breeze! If you want to avoid the following harrowing 2-hour trek that I took and actually find the cemetery you should keep going straight at the N11 intersection. From there you will go up a steep hill and somewhere on the left, directly in the middle between markers N11 and N13 you’ll see a very unimpressive, unmarked, path on your left. The cemetery is not visible from the Cemetery Loop Path and is on this unmarked sub path, up a little hill and behind a rock wall. If you hit the N13 marker while looking for this sub path you’ve gone too far. This is a SHORT walk, should take 10-15 minutes tops from the car. The following is why it took me two hours.
First, I did not go straight on at marker N11, instead I went past it by going left, believing being a loop trail I’d loop back around. I found my way all the way to marker N12 which should mean I was where I needed to be but N12 was actually a 4-way intersection that was not noted on the map. Two directions were labelled via tree signs as “Scott’s Road” and straight ahead was “The Pipeline Path.” Neither of these paths are on the map and the Cemetery Loop Path was not marked by sign. So, I was left to guess, question myself, turn around, question myself again, turn around again, and again! I never took the Pipline Path. I did however take at various points the Scott’s Road Path to where it ended – at the road behind marker N13 on Scott’s Road, and I took the opposite direction until I hit the Maine Trail again. In the meanwhile, I continued to come across more intersections of clearly marked trails that were not on the goddamn map! Like the Lightning Trail! I could not fathom how a cluster of trails could be both so clearly marked and maintained and yet so impossible to navigate. Somewhere along the way I found an old cellar hole which was cool, before I backtracked all the way back to the N11 marker, this time taking the other leg of the loop where the map noted there was a cemetery.
Well! I made it all the way from N11 to N13 which was a HIKE straight up a hill despite the rest of the day being flat paths and in all that time I didn’t see a cemetery. By now it was raining, almost two hours had passed, I wanted to be back at the car but also I couldn’t just leave after never finding the cemetery. As I walked back to N11 from N13 I peered intensely into the woods on my righthand side and there I found the entrance to the cemetery having passed it the first time. It was not marked. It looked like a deer path and the stones were not visible until I walked up and over the hill this strange sub-path was on. Finally!! Success!!
Here in a TINY three stone plot was the Hartwell family, buried between 1806-1850, all with gorgeous slate stones. Cool thing about this plot was the foot stones were still intact and clearly visible. This is rare in stones of this age. Very cool! Also interesting to see a fresh American flag next to the middle stone marking the final resting place of a veteran. Who died in 1806. And whose grave is now practically in Narnia. How did the people putting the flags and plaques out know where to find him?! They must have gotten better instructions than I did! Now I could go home with a sense of accomplishment, having found what to date was the smallest and most hidden cemetery I have ever been to.
Yesterday we ventured out to see the Cedar Hill Cemetery in Hartford Connecticut because we heard it was the final resting place of Katherine Hepburn and we’d never been to the grave of a modern celebrity before. Why not? We drove a few hours, this time knowing it closes at 4PM. Still, with 270 acres to poke out we knew we’d be out there for a while.
We managed to snag a spot in their weirdly limited parking up at the church and began to ankle it into the cemetery itself, which was down a long, paved driveway of sorts. On the way there was a nice view of the Autumn leaves over a body of water. A couple benches were here too just in case you wanted to linger, though there wasn’t a gravestone in sight for quite a while.
There were however pamphlets on the way in to take self-guided tours or an audio tour. This is where things got interesting because our previous internet search had only said that Katharine Hepburn and Yung Wing – the first Chinese man to graduate an American University (Yale) were buried there. But there were SO MANY other interesting people here!
I am only going to mention the ones that I found interesting because there were literally dozens and I don’t want this blog entry to be a book. But here we go! There were several friends of Mark Twain, an ungodly amount of bankers and founders of insurance agencies including JP Morgan himself (who I guess got filthy wealthy “funneling capital for Europe to the emerging American economies.”) Jacob Weidenmann who was the cemetery’s landscape architect (and what a lovely job he did. The trees here were stunning! All in their Autumn colors!) Several actors including Katharine Hepburn, Robert Ames, and Fern Andra, several artists including William Gedney Bunce, Albert Entress, William Glackens, and George Wright. Samual Colt who founded Colt’s Patent Firearms Company largely recognized for the improvement of the manufacturing of revolvers. If it’s women’s history you’re in need of there was Isabella Beecher Hooker who was a suffragist and who fought for the Married Women’s Property Law which passed in 1877. And Thomas Hopkins Gallaudet was known for being the father of deaf education in the US founding what is known today as The American School for the Deaf. There were several inventors including the guy who figured out how to produce horseshoe nails by machine George Capewell which adorably had horseshoe nails carved into his stone.
But my two favorite monuments went to one for creepy creativity and the other for just being fascinating. Mark Howard was a prominent figure in the insurance agency and for whatever reason after he died he had a pyramid erected as his monument. Now, I’ve seen pyramids before but this was the first one that came with an angel playing peek-a-boo from the door. It was both gorgeous and slightly terrifying. I just don’t think angels should be peeking out from anywhere. That’s some sneaky behavior! But an even more impressive monument went to Horace Wells a dentist who discovered the use of nitrous oxide (laughing gas) as an anesthetic and died at 33. Someone put a lot of effort into showing his achievements on his four-sided stone that showed a woman awake and a woman at sleep through anesthesia. Eerie and striking. This was my favorite piece of art in the whole cemetery.
We’d eventually find what we came for – the modest monument to Katharine Hepburn. People had left a tennis ball, a golf ball, and several lipsticks. I don’t know much about her, haven’t even seen any of her movies, literally only know her from one interview with Dick Cavette which I watched with great amusement for her complete inability to sit like a normal person in a chair.
All and all it took us two hours to find the monuments recognized by letters in the pamphlet. We did not find the bonus list or wander beyond the sections shown in the pamphlet. Cedar Hill is 270 acres which means it just keeps going! I didn’t even mention all the war leaders or politicians but there were a number of them too. In any event this cemetery was one of the prettiest I have been to and was so expansive that there was really something for everyone here.
And so that was our trip. I highly suggest this cemetery to any history buffs, taphophiles, or anyone just looking for a relaxing afternoon stroll.
